


Something Nice

by eva_roisin



Category: X-Men (Movies)
Genre: Humor, M/M, PWP
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-01-03
Updated: 2012-01-03
Packaged: 2017-10-28 18:58:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,284
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/311146
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eva_roisin/pseuds/eva_roisin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>During a Danger Room exercise, Remy and Logan get more than they bargained for.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Something Nice

**Author's Note:**

> This was originally written for the marvel_kink meme. The prompt was: Movieverse Gambit/Wolverine, sex in the Danger Room, Rogue walks in on them.

Something Nice

The first time Remy said something to Logan about Rogue—when he mentioned that he liked the way she looked, and did Logan think she might want to go out with him sometime—Logan yanked the staff from Remy's hands, broke it in half, and told Remy he was going to find a nice soft place to cram it.

That was fine with Remy—he liked it when Logan went all Jack Bauer. He found it endearing. "I don't think that'll be necessary," he said, and smiled.

The second time—when they were in the danger room and Remy told Logan that he'd caught Rogue shaving her legs on the patio, and damn was that hot—Logan sent him into a wall. Almost broke Remy's shoulder.

And the third time—also in the danger room, when Remy mentioned Rogue and asked Logan if he'd ever, you know, thought about it—Logan hit him in the mouth. When the pain bloomed behind Remy's eyes, he thought only of love. Getting hit in the mouth like that reminded him of the day he and Logan met, the day his life changed. Instead of pain he felt nothing but a big aching cavity on the inside, all rotten and awful for Logan.

It was horrible, the way he felt. He'd spent the last fifteen years flitting in and out of Logan's life—or maybe Logan had flitted in and out of his life, he couldn't be sure—and had nothing to show for it but a few rancid memories. Like the time he and Logan had fucked in the bathroom of a truck stop along I-10 in Texas, the smell of sex and sweat mingling with the heavy odor of the decades-old septic system backing up. Or the time Logan tracked him down in Vegas and told him he smelled like too many women but fucked him anyway, against a wall, reaching around with a handful of lube, and Remy said, _That's kind of you, sir_ , and Logan told him to shut up and just come already. Or, his most treasured memory: The time in New Orleans, around Halloween, when he gave Logan a blowjob in a parking lot outside of a motel-turned-prostitution-ring, and Logan came in his mouth, no warning. But Remy didn't care. He climbed to his feet, and Logan surprised him by pulling him close and kissing him right on the mouth and combing his fingers through Remy's hair like he meant it or something.

But right now? Remy’s mouth hurt. He curled into a fetal position and heard Logan call off the simulation.

"You're getting slow," Logan said. "You're getting old."

"Who you callin' old?" Remy said, staggering to his feet.

"Look at you," Logan said, glancing over his shoulder. He turned around and stopped. Gave Remy the once-over. "You know what? You want to ask Rogue out? Just ask her out."

"Don't know why you're so concerned anyway, _ami_ ," Remy said, clutching his face. "Not like she's your kid or nothing. And she's grown."

"That's right," Logan said. "She's old enough. And she's smart. And you're just old." He put his hands on his hips. "She's eighteen. You're what, forty? Ha. Yeah, go ask her out. I'd love to be in the room when that shit goes down."

"I'm thirty-nine," Remy said. He'd always be thirty-nine. "And I'm distinguished."

"Old."

"Most people don't think I'm thirty-two."

"Which is still old from the point of view of an eighteen-year-old."

"Age don't matter none to women," Remy said. "Ladies want a man with experience."

"Just keeping telling yourself that, Gumbo," Logan said. _And you'd know_ , Remy thought, but he kept it to himself because he wanted to keep his face unbruised for Rogue.

Logan looked like he was going to leave, but instead he bent over. Extended his hand. "You okay?"

"No, sweetheart, I ain't okay. I think I fuckin' lost a tooth."

Logan pulled his hand away. "Then go find it."

God, Logan was such an asshole. Remy didn't know why he bothered. He didn't know what the fuck he was doing in this fancy-ass New York neighborhood, either, all these cars in people's driveways just begging to be jacked. And all these damn kids, all of them off limits. Till they turned eighteen, anyway.

He was there because of Logan.

Remy scrambled to his feet. "You know," he said, "maybe I oughta head out. Drum up some spare change. Head down south."

Logan called his bluff. "You do that."

"Maybe I oughta do something nice for Rogue before I go. Something to remember me by."

Logan tensed. And turned around to face him. 

"But if you don't want me to, I'd understand," Remy said. "I'd settle for something else." Oh, he'd settle alright. He didn't mind settling.

In two minutes flat he had Logan pressed against the curved wall of the danger room, the place so still and quiet that the sound of Logan's zipper coming down seemed to echo. He didn't bother to go slow. He took Logan's cock out of his pants and got him hard. Reached around behind him and probed his ass with two fingers. With his other hand, fondled Logan's balls. He hadn't even used his mouth yet, and the guy was grunting.

Fifty seconds later—and Remy was counting because he kept a running tally of how long Logan usually took to come, and when he was doing his job well it usually wasn't long—Logan ran a hand through Remy's hair and sighed through his nose. Remy took that as a sign to step it up. He kept his fingers in Logan's ass, his mouth on his cock, his tongue swirling around the tip. With his other hand he rapidly jerked at Logan's dick.

Logan grunted, cursed. His head rolled back against the wall. He pressed one hand against the base of Remy's skull.

Remy looked up and pulled back, Logan's dick slipping from his mouth. "Say it. Say you'll miss me."

"Fuck," Logan gasped. "You're such a piece of shit."   

Remy tried not to smile too hard, because smiling made cocksucking difficult. He knew Logan was close. He stepped up his rhythm and cupped Logan's balls.

Logan reached for his dick.

Remy knew that Logan was about to come. Where—that was the question. The guy liked to aim for some interesting places. That was just part of his thing.

Logan pulled out of Remy's mouth. "Shit," he said, shuddering, pulling back and coming.

Remy moved his head, just enough so that Logan caught him in the chin and not the eye. "Goddamnit," Remy said. "Watch where you swing that thing." He didn't want to drive back to New Orleans half blind.

But Logan wasn't looking at him. He was looking past him, toward the entrance of the Danger Room.

Remy then noticed that the light from the hallway was cutting into the darkness. He sighed. Wondered who it was. He climbed to his feet, wiped his chin with the back of his hand, and straightened his shirt.

Logan was putting his dick away.

Remy turned to look.

Rogue tucked a strand of that pretty white hair behind her ear and said something about needing one of them to move a car. Remy didn't look at her face. He'd been caught doing worse—much worse—but not any time in recent memory.

He tucked his hands in his pockets. "Sure," he said.

And Logan said something else, and Remy just straightened his shirt again, and then Rogue left them.

When they were alone, Logan said, "She'll remember you now."

"She will," Remy said, but he thought he'd rather be missed than remembered.


End file.
